Two Roads Converged
by JoanIncarnate
Summary: I guess the first time I saw him was a pretty ordinary day. I don't remember all the details honestly. What I do remember, is getting on the train and searching for a seat so I could pass out without being disrupted. Searching around my car of the train, I sighed, ready to resign myself to a long ride home, when my eyes landed on him. My life, understandably, was changed.


**WARNINGS: **Slash, Profanity, OOC, A little bit of stalking?

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Bleach and I don't own the characters mentioned. I just own this plot, which (not very surprisingly) came to me on the train.

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**1. Introduction**

I guess the first time I saw him was a pretty ordinary day. It had been a cloudy, mediocre day where not much happened and any actions on my part could be attributed to muscle memory. I don't remember all the details honestly; it had been a long time ago. If you had asked, I wouldn't be able to tell you what I was wearing, what I was thinking, or what I was feeling. What I _do_ remember, is getting on the train and searching for a seat so I could pass out without being disrupted. Searching around my car of the train, I sighed, ready to resign myself to a long ride home, when my eyes landed on him.

My life, understandably, was changed.

**2. Break**

I had probably stared at him for a small lifetime. How could I _not_? Not only was he ridiculously good-looking, but he had blue hair. _Blue._ It was weird and awesome, particularly for me, since I rarely met people other than myself with such obscenely bright hair. It honestly didn't look natural but, hey, who was I to talk?

The train jerked to a start and broke me out of my daze. I tripped into a seat before the ride started getting smoother. Clearing my throat awkwardly, I discreetly looked around to confirm no one had witnessed my awkward stumble. Blue eyes met my own and his lips lifted up in an amused smirk. I quickly looked away. My face flushed. It felt like his eyes were still on me and I didn't dare check if they really were. I didn't look up again for the rest of the ride.

**3. Memory**

I saw him again after that. Many times after. Which was weird, because Blue had never taken this train before. With a face and body like that, I would definitely remember if he had. This was _my_ train. I took this train like clockwork, five days a week. I was pretty sure of that, but I couldn't help but wonder if I had somehow missed his existence somehow since I usually treat these train rides as a nap. (Needless to say, I no longer napped on these train rides. I had something far better to do.) What if, all this time, he had been right across from me on the other side of the car, and I had just never bothered to look up? What if, all this time, he had been just a few steps away and I never even noticed?

What a humbly terrifying thought.

**4. Obsession**

Since that first meeting, it didn't take me very long before I had his schedule completely memorized. If I was running late, I would run to the station to catch his train. If I was early, I would sit and let the trains go by (even if they were my own) so that I could run into him again. He always took the 6:02 train heading downtown. He was always in the very last car, always sitting by the emergency exit. He got off at twelve stops after I got on. On Thursdays, he would take the train all the way to the last stop. How do I know this? ... I'm not proud of it, but I won't deny stalking him a couple times. I never let it get too far - - I wouldn't follow him out of the train or anything, I just wanted to see which stop was his. That's all.

**5. War**

Most of the time, Blue looked pissed off. He looked like everyone had somehow wronged him and he was mere seconds away from breaking their necks for it. I don't doubt that he could either. He had bulging biceps and triceps and all those other ceps. When he wore t-shirts, I could see tattoos and scars on his arms. It wouldn't surprise me if there were more from where they came from. I recognized most of them. They were scars one got from fights and adrenaline-charged decisions. I would know. I had similar scars myself. It made sense. He looked like a guy who had a temper. The kind of guy who wouldn't take shit from anyone and would kick your ass if you tried anything with him. Call it a macho guy thing if you will, but I like hearing stories about battle scars. I wouldn't mind hearing about a few of his. I bet we would have a lot to share.

**6. Spit**

Okay, ew. Gross. Some middle-aged dude just hacked a loogey in the middle of the car. As if the trains weren't gross enough, now this asshole had to contribute to the filth. I wrinkled my nose and subtly edged away from the glob of spit that landed mere inches from my shoe. Middle-aged man just wiped his nose on his sleeve and started hacking up enough phlegm for another outburst. I grimaced, already leaning away in my seat, when someone spoke.

"Hey, would you mind not doing that on the train?"

The man looked up with a snarl, which immediately left his face when he saw Him glaring at him. Even sitting down, one could tell how tall and well-built he had to be. The man just nodded quickly and apologized. He got off the train at the very next stop. Meanwhile, I was in shock. In all these train rides, not once had I heard a single word from him. Blue had an imposing presence when silent, but he was even more impressive when vocal. He had a deep, rumbling baritone voice that was commanding. It suited him.

Blue caught my eye and grinned. I smiled back, gratefully. He nodded at me and then put his ear buds back in.

**7. Europe**

Today he was reading a book. Ear buds plugged in and eyes narrowed, his whole body hunched over as he glared down the contents of the book. From the angle of where I stood, I could see the cover. Seeing as how I only understood Japanese and English and it had neither, it was a foreign book. Probably German. It had that weird "u" with the two dots on top.

I hummed to myself. German... He looked European. The blue eyes, pale-ish skin, and blue hair weren't common around here. Then again, I doubt blue hair was all that common anywhere. Mainly, though, it was the aura. The mysterious, exciting aura that one associated with foreign Europeans. I imagined him speaking that foreign language, his rumbling voice only further accentuating the lilts of the language. A shiver ran down my spine.

**8. Flower**

Twelves lilies were cradled in his arms. Judging by his expression, he was somewhere between wanting to throw them on the ground then jumping on them, and holding it like the Holy Grail because he was trying not to crush them. Who were they for? His mother? Sister? Lover? I scowled at that thought. After all this time watching him, I really hoped he didn't have a lover. There was nothing about him that hinted at the fact that he would have one. He was always alone on these rides and he had no ring or other cheesy item that told of his relationship status. That is, until today. Who was this woman, that could possibly hold on to a man like him? Or was it a man? A flutter of hope settled inside me, despite the fact that I had never spoken to him. For all the times I secretly watched him on the train, not once had I dared to open my mouth and just speak.

It suddenly hit me how pathetic I was.

**9. Precious**

These one hour train rides with him had become my guilty pleasure. It was my way to just stop thinking about whatever was going on in my life and just daydream for a little while. From the moment I stepped through those doors, I ceased to be Ichigo Kurosaki. I was just some random guy in the backdrop of Blue's life. I wondered if he thought about me as much as I thought about him. Sadly, he probably didn't, because I thought of him a hell of a lot. What his name was, where he came from, who he was. I had imagined dozens of different stories for him and a hundred different identities for him.

His name was Glenn and he was a foreign exchange student from Germany. He grew up with an older brother who was always better than him but it was okay because they were so close that they were inseparable. Then his brother passed away in a motorcycle accident and Glenn decided it was too painful to stay in Germany any longer. He and his brother, Gregor, had always dreamed of traveling the world together - - just two bros. He would achieve that dream, if only half-way.

He was Jack. His hair wasn't natural at all but he liked the color and it helped him stand out. As an aspiring rock star, he needed all the attention he could get. He was a heartbreaker and he couldn't help it. Jack was currently dating three different girls: all of whom claimed to love him. Not once had he said it back to them. He didn't know how to.

Connor. He had always lived under the shadow of his father, a veteran with a lot of shiny medals and badges that didn't mean shit to him. He had tried to follow in his father's footsteps, make the old man proud, but it just wasn't him. He dropped out of military school and caught the next plane out. Connor was living for himself, living in the moment.

I knew that, chances are, not one of these stories or identities were even close to the truth. But that was cool with me. Glenn wasn't real, and neither were Jack or Connor, but Blue was very much real. I knew he had to be someone.

**10. Sport**

I groaned as I made my way into a fully packed car. Great. All the seats were taken. Of all days for this train to be so crowded, it had to be today. My arms and legs were still sore from the day before. Kenpachi had somehow convinced me to do a three-hour training session with him. "Yer gettin' soft, Kurosaki!" he had said, as he added weights to my limbs. The first hour was just warming up and a basic work-out. Of course, for Kenpachi, warming up included two hundred push-ups, sit-ups, and chin-ups, followed by a five mile "jog." From there, it had only gone downhill. I shuddered just at the memory of sparring with the man.

I resigned myself to standing and winced, lifting my arm up to hold one of the handles when Blue looked at me. That was new. It was always me looking at him, and not the other way around. It made me kind of nervous, actually. After a few moments, he looked away and stood up. He leaned against the adjacent wall of the car and closed his eyes.

I looked blankly at him, even though he couldn't see me anymore. Slowly, I made my way over to his now unoccupied seat and sat down. I looked up at him. His eyes were still closed and his head was bowed.

"Thanks."

I can't tell if he had nodded, or if he was just bobbing along to the music in his ear buds.

**11. Citric Acid**

There was someone with him today. A woman. A beautiful, green haired woman with curves and giant doe eyes. The two of them sat together and spoke quietly to one another. Now and then, they would burst out into laughter; her in pretty feminine giggles, him in deep resounding chuckles. I couldn't even enjoy the fact that I could finally hear his voice again. They were beautiful together and they looked happy. I had never seen him quite so content. It left a bad taste in my mouth.

**12. Drop**

"I know, Yuzu."

_"Do you? Really? Or are you just saying that so you can get me to hang up?"_

"No, I swear, I am not lying."

_"... Promise?"_

"Yes. Now put Karin on the phone."

Static came over the call.

_"Yo. What up?"_

"Hey. Is she just being her usual self or is something actually wrong?"

_"Ah, nothing. She and the old man are just getting mopey 'cause they haven't seen you in a couple months. They miss you, you know?"_

"Uh huh... and are you implying that you _don't_ miss me?" I grinned at her, though she couldn't see it. "I gotta admit, that stings just a little."

_"Oh God, you're getting more and more like Goat-chin every day. Soon, you'll be greeting people with flying kicks and crying to a poster of Mom all the time."_

I winced, rubbing my chest with my free arm. "Karin, you are breaking my heart here."

I could hear her scoff from her end of the call. _"Just come home already, alright?!" _

"I'll come back this weekend. Love you too!"

She slammed the phone down at the sound of my laughter.

As I tried to put my phone back into my pocket, it dropped out of my hand and slid across the car, stopping right at Blue's shoe. He picked up and looked at me. "Girlfriend?"

My heart was racing but outwardly, I remained composed. I smirked. "Even worse. Sisters."

He grinned. "Yeah, tell me about it," he rolled his eyes. "Mine drives me crazy all the time." The train jerked to a stop and the first conversation we ever had came to a stop as he got up. As he headed towards the door, he looked back and grinned. "I'll see ya around."

**13. Biohazard**

_'I probably should have stayed home today,' _is what I thought as I got onto the train. I sniffled and cleared my throat. Ugh. Being sick sucks. I had been sneezing and coughing all day long, my throat was sore, and I had a pounding headache. As much as I would have loved to just stay in bed all day and sleep my illness away, I knew Rukia would fry my ass if I didn't show up today. Yet, as I sneezed into another tissue, I had to wonder if maybe it would be worth incurring her wrath if I could just quietly waste away in my apartment for a day or two to lick my metaphorical wounds or some shit like that.

"Achoo!" Ugh.

"Achoo!" UGH.

"Achoo!" WHY? WHY, GOD, WHY?!

"Achoo!"

"Bless you."

I looked up but he had already returned plugged back in his ear buds.

**14. Fairy Tale**

For all the obsession, I knew nothing was going to come out of this. I mean, yeah, sure, I saw him on the train all the time and I thought about him all the time. I had imagined all these crazy scenarios but realistically, I knew nothing was going to happen. Definitely nothing would happen if I never spoke to him. Which I wasn't planning to do, ever.

It's not that I didn't want to know more about him. It was pretty obvious from my many daydreams that I was _at_ _least_ curious, but I didn't want to be disappointed. Because, really? What could actually come out of this? What were the chances that he would be gay, that he would be attracted to me, that we would fall in love and live happily ever after? What were the chances that he was even remotely as amazing as I hoped he was?

Exactly.

**15. Snow**

It was a cold December day. It had just snowed the night before and winter had left piles of white, fluffy happiness everywhere as its calling card. Something about winter just put me on cloud nine. I was bundled up in puffy layers like a fragile package in bubble wrap as I waited for the train to arrive. I breathed in deep and exhaled, going cross-eyed trying to catch the sight of steam coming from my nose. I felt like one badass, fire-breathing dragon.

_Inhale... Exhale..._ Steam everywhere.

I was a happy little fucker. I amused myself like this for so long that I didn't even realize that the train had not only arrived, but was getting ready to leave. I dashed into the train right before the doors closed, just barely making it. I sighed as the train pulled out of the station when I felt a pair of eyes on me.

I turned around just in time to catch a pair of blue eyes look away so that Blue was facing the window and away from me. I mentally raised my eyebrows. What was that about? His shoulders shook and I watched his reflection as he tried to hold back his laughter rather unsuccessfully and let a couple snickers through. I was growing more and more confused until he looked up and stared at me, staring at him, through his reflection. And just then, before I could look away, Blue leaned into the window and breathed deeply enough to make steam on the window. He smirked at my horrified expression and I looked away before he could notice how red I was turning. I tried to ignore the sound of snickers coming from his direction. Asshole.

**16. Broken**

It had been a whole week. I didn't understand. It was 6:02, but Blue wasn't here. He missed his train now and then but never this many days in a row. My mind ran through all the possibilities as to why this could be happening. He was sick. He was out of town. He moved. He got a job transfer. It was probably nothing. The chances were, he would be back soon enough. I was probably just over-reacting. Whatever the reason, it did nothing to dispel the lump in my throat. I was afraid the cycle had been broken.

**17. Pen and Paper**

I rolled my pen between my fingers, blue ink trailing idly on a blank page to form hair like wild blue fire over a chiseled features. He wasn't here today either.

It had been two weeks since I last saw his signature blue hair. I missed him. I don't know how it could be possible to miss something you never had, or to miss someone you never knew, but I did. I missed the little make-believe games I would play, where I was the creator of adventures and he was not only the protagonist of the stories but the gatekeeper of new worlds.

The scritch-scratch of his face etched itself onto the pages of an old notebook. He would be back. He had to be.

**18. Seeing Red**

Three weeks. Enough. Where the hell was he? Who did he think he was? What kind of asshole comes into someone's life, tramples and marks all aspects of it, then just disappears with no excuses? How does he expect me to ride the fucking train everyday? I _can't_, because every time the train comes, I find myself trying to catch the faintest glimpse of his stupid face. Every time the car doors open, I get so pathetically excited over the tiniest glimpse of blue, only to come crashing back down to reality with burning shame when I realize that I was only staring at someone's jacket or scarf.

He could leave for all I fucking care. He could just drop off the face of the earth, because I had had enough.

**19. Drown**

Four weeks. It was really ridiculous how influential this random stranger's disappearance could be on my life. Everyone had noticed it. They said I seemed down, I seemed irritable, I seemed dejected. They were all right.

**20. Gone**

Life continued as usual. Work was as draining as ever. My family was still weird and lovable. Nothing had changed. I boarded the 1:54 AM train heading downtown after a late night at work. When the doors opened, I took a seat by the end of the car. My hair brushed against the wall as I leaned my head back. I closed my eyes and sighed.

It had been two months since I last saw him. I had waited and waited, sticking to the cycle almost religiously but it was all pointless. He just vanished as if he had never been there in the first place. At some point, I admitted defeat. I gave up on ever seeing him again. The game was over and it was time to move on.

A tear made its way down my face and I wiped it away angrily. This was just pathetic. How could I be crying over someone I never knew, when I hadn't cried even when life had thrown so much more at me? I closed my eyes, hands over my face. As hard as I tried to will the tears away, I only noticed with greater clarity the regret that filled me. All those times I saw him on the train and I was too much of a chicken to say anything or get to know him, I only realized now how utterly stupid I was being. How hard could it be to walk up to him and say, "Hi"?

I just wanted to see him one last time and say something to him. Anything.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I looked up, ready to snap at the fucker that dared to bug me at this private moment. The first thing I noticed was a hand, extended out and offering a tissue in its grip. I snatched the offending item away, hoping the person would just go away, when I noticed a bit of writing on it: "Don't cry, be happy."

I looked up to see a familiar and dearly missed pair of eyes grinning back at me.

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **True story... true-ish story. The ending happened. I was on the train and I saw this woman crying and I didn't really know what to do or say (I'm not good at being comforting, okay?) so I just handed her a tissue and smiled. "Smile!" I said, and she did. Sort of. She kind of grimaced at me and I went away because I felt like I was being awkward and she wanted me to leave her alone. I never saw her again but it made me happy that I could make her almost smile.

The title is a twist on a line from the famous "The Road Not Taken" poem by the wonderful Robert Frost. I haven't written anything in quite a while so you could see this as my way of getting back into the swing of things. I tried really hard to make sure Ichigo didn't seem too stalkerish but I'm not sure how well it came out. Leave me a review and let me know?


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